


baby don't sleep too much

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anger Management, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Mood Swings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7612981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander was not... okay, per se. He was just moderately unwell. In the head, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby don't sleep too much

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello hello! 
> 
> this will eventually end up being a multichapter fic that will update sporadically a.k.a. when i feel like writing haha yikes
> 
> chapter titles are songs and i'm going to try to have them match the chapter but if they don't then don't worry about it - you'll still have a new song to listen to :)
> 
> any warnings will be posted at the beginning of each chapter! stay safe bbys ilu

Alexander was not... _okay_ , per se. He was just moderately unwell. In the head, that is. He'd been diagnosed as insane and mentally ill at a young age ( _around seven_ , he thought), his wealthy parents forcing him into a mental institute in the United States before leaving the country to go hobnob in Paris. "We'll come visit!" They had said before leaving Alex in the lobby of the K.G. Center For The Mentally Ill, only a backpack filled with books and his birth certificate to his name. They never did come back. Occasionally, he recieved letters from a Mr. George Washington (someone who knows his parents) asking how he's doing. Washington will tell him what he desires unless he asks of his parents, in which Washington will ignore his questions as if he'd never asked them. He will, however, tell Alex of how the elections are going, who the nominees are, how the RNC and the DNC are going, etc. None of the patients are allowed to have cell phones or computers at K.G. unless you're a member of the staff. 

Now Alex was sixteen and he'd been at K.G. for around nine years. Rarely anyone stayed longer than a year, and Alex had only been there for so long because he was too ill to leave. Also combined with the fact that his parents wouldn't answer any of his weekly calls he was allowed, nor any of the e-mail updates the center sent out every month. The only person who'd been there as long as he had been was James Madison (since Alex was twelve) and he didn't ever talk anyways - or he was in his room because he was too sick to leave it. Combined with being physically sick, James was depressed and had severe anxiety and self-harm habits. Alex sometimes listened through the walls, though, as James called someone named Thomas every week. James had a soft, almost sad sounding voice, but he sounded happiest when talking to Thomas. Alex wondered sometimes if they were dating.

Today, however, was July 12, 2016 - and someone was supposed to be showing up today. Usually Alex never payed any attention to who came and went - he didn't bother with names or faces - but the boy who walked in the front doors of the cafeteria that afternoon during lunch sure was _something_. He had soft brown, red tinted curly hair. His face was so heavily freckled he looked like a chocolate chip, and the customary blue shirt and black pants the boys had to wear somehow made him look _beautiful_ , in Alex's opinion. As the boy was looking around - also looking extremely uncomfortable being so close to the female attendee that was pointing around the room - he met eyes with Alex, who smiled at the boy. The boy looked at the nurse, then pointed at Alex, and said something. She shook her head _no_ , and Alex could guess why.

He was the sickest patient K.G. had ever seen, and even though no one had told him this directly, Alex knew it was unlikely he would ever recover. He went from irrational to rational thinking in the time it took to say "Constitution", and his mood swung so violently he once was picking up his tray of brown sludge, immediately threw it on the ground, then sat in the sludge and cried while ripping enormous chunks of hair out of his head. He wasn't allowed out of the padded room at the end of the residence hallway for six hours, until they let him out to eat dinner. And if it was raining? That only made everything worse.

 _That's_ why the boy couldn't sit with Alex. It was likely the boy wouldn't survive through lunch. Nevertheless, the boy put on a pout, causing the attendee to sigh and wave her hand in Alex's direction. She grabbed the boy's shoulder before he walked away, though, and said something to him before pointing at the lunch ladies. He nodded, then went off in Alex's direction. Immediately, Alex panicked. _What will he think of me? Is he nice? Will I blow up at him? Don't embarrass yourself, Alex..._

"Hi!" The boy said, startling Alex out of his thoughts. "I'm John Laurens. Who are you?" John finished as he took a seat by Alex. The chair made a horrible screeching sound as he pulled it out from under the table, and they both cringed. As soon as he was seated, John looked into Alex's eyes. "You have pretty eyes."

Alex stuttered and blushed. "T-thanks. Y-you too." The boy laughed and brushed a piece of hair behind his ear. "Um... I'm Alexander Hamilton, but you can call me Alex. I've been here since I was seven, and I'm sixteen now. Uh-"

"I'm sixteen, too. Did you know that turtles can get stuck on their backs if they flip over?" John said, now looking around at the dining hall. The walls were white along with all of the tables, and the chairs were all red and blue. John looked back at Alex and giggled - actually _giggled_ , what the fuck?

"I didn't know that." Alex said, finally feeling some confidence in his voice. "Do y-"

"I like your name, Alexander." John said, flicking his tongue on the last syllable of Alex's name. He grinned, then giggled again. _What the fuck was up with this kid?_

Alex felt himself get angry - _that's not my name_ \- but tried his best to calm down by counting forwards and backwards from ten. He did this a couple of times before he opened his eyes, not having realized he'd closed them, only to be met with John's curious face. "Why'd you do that?" He asked. John closed and opened his eyes a couple of times to show what he meant.

"I was getting mad so I tried to calm myself down." Alex said. "It worked."

"What were you mad about?" John asked.

Alex wondered if he should tell John why he was really mad. He decided not to. "Nothing important."

"Well, it must have been pretty important if you had to stop staring at my beautiful face for that long, Alexander." John said, punctuating his sentence with a wink. He grinned again.

Alex nearly gagged, but disguised it as a cough. John laughed. "What are you laughing at?" Alex asked, suddenly angry again. "I could've choked and _died_ , and you would've just been laughing your happy ass off, wouldn't you have been? How would _that_ look - _Man Dies, Boy Beside Him Laughs_ \- not good for your image." Alex spit out quickly.

John laughed again. "What image? The image I have as the son of an uber-Conservative politician who's had multiple mistresses? The image I have that's been carefully constructed and cultivated by people in an office building? The image I have as the boy who isn't good with the ladies, when really I'm gay as fuck and can't tell that to my dad because he'd kick me out? Oh, wait - he already did, and that's why I'm here." John laughed, but quieter this time, almost awkwardly.

"Shit, dude, that _sucks_." Alexander said. "Well, I suppose I can tell you this - I'm pansexual." He shrugged, but John smiled broadly.

"Awesome! That's... really cool." John said after a pause, making them both laugh. John looked at Alex's soup and made a face. "I'm so _sad_  I ate before I got here, that looks _lovely_." He said sarcastically, making them both laugh again.

"It's _so great_." Alex said mimmicking John's voice. He looked over John's head and caught a glimpse of two of the female attendees whispering to each other and pointing in John and Alex's direction. He knew they were talking about them, how John was the first person he hadn't punched within a minute of meeting them. Except James. He didn't punch James because Alex thought he might kill him.

The bell that hung above the dining hall doors rang obnoxiously, signalling that lunch was over. Alex stood suddenly to dump his nearly-full bowl of soup in the trash cans, when John grabbed him by the elbow. "See you later?" 

"If I can." Alex said. He hoped it sounded sincere.

John seemed to accept his answer and walked towards the doors, but not before calling out to Alex. "See you, Alexander!" The doors slammed shut behind him and any anger that came from being called "Alexander" fizzled out quickly.

 

 

"Alex! How was lunch?" Aaron asked as Alex closed the door to Aaron's office before sitting in the cushioned chair in front of his desk. Aaron Burr was Alex's designated therapist, and he had been since Alex arrived nine years ago. They'd been through everything together, from the time Alex punched a hole in the wall his first day at K.G. to yesterday when Alex unscrewed the doorknob to his personal room with his fingernails and threw it at a glass display case in the lobby. Aaron was the only person Alex had come to tolerate - and even care about - in the entire facility.

"Good. Did you meet the new guy, John Laurens? He's nice." Alex said.

"I was aware we were getting a new patient, but I hadn't met him yet. Did he sit with you at lunch?"

"Yeah. I didn't punch him." Alex said proudly.

Aaron laughed. "I'm proud of you. Did you want to talk about anything else before we started today?"

"Did you read the book I gave you? _Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe_?" Alex asked eagerly, slumping back when Aaron shook his head.

"You know I'm uncomfortable reading that kind of explicit material, Alexander."

"But-" Alex protested, already forming an argument in his head.

"I know, I know, " _it's not pornography because it's not designed to bring pleasure_ ", but, as you know, I've just come to terms with your own sexuality and I'm not ready to read a book all about it."

"But it's so much more than that! It's a coming-of-age story about a boy and his father, and how the boy _finally_ makes a friend after all these years, and-"

" _Enough_ , Alexander." Alex knew that when Aaron wanted to get his point across he used Alex's full name. "This debate is over. We're beginning today's session."

Alex threw his hands in the air and groaned loudly. "What else is there to talk about? You've known me for nine years, what have we _not_ covered? I know all the anger control techniques, I know every aspect of my sicknesses inside and out, and what progress have we made? You know what happened with the doorknob yesterday-"

"That was you being obnoxious, and you _know_ that." Aaron said, sounding annoyed. "We're required to do this - for what reason? I don't know. But we press through the mess, wondering " _what's next?_ ", and prepare ourselves for the uncertainty of your condition."

Alex turned in his chair to hang his legs over the arm of the chair, causing Aaron to groan. "Okay." Alex sighed. "What are we doing today?"

"We're going to practice keeping you voice calm and breathing centered when you're in a situation that could anger you. I have some flashcards for you to read off of as I do things to intentionally anger you." Aaron said, reaching behind his desk to grab the cards.

"Can I read from my book instead?" Alex asked. "The one behind you, third shelf, fifth from the left." Aaron handed him the book. "Thanks."

"What book is that?" Aaron asked. 

" _Thomas Jefferson Dreams of Sally Hemings_. I know it looks super long, but it's a fact/fiction retelling of the relationship between Thomas Jefferson, the founding father, and Sally Hemings, his slave and mistress to many of their children. It's really interesting."

"I'm sure it is. Remember, if you feel the need to hurt someone - mainly me or yourself - tell me. I'll stop immediantly." Aaron said, sounding serious for a moment before relaxing and smiling. "Let's begin!"

Alex opened his book to the bookmark, page 264, and began reading. "Thomas Jefferson always leaves her room in the middle of the night, and so, awoken by the shrill whistling of swallows, Sally Hemings is surpised to feel-"

"Alexander." Aaron says, his full name alone making Alex squirm in anger. Alex stops reading for a moment, trying to calm his breathing before it gets out of control. "Tell me about your childhood. Your _parents_ , maybe."

Alex ignored Aaron, continuing his reading with no tremble in his voice. He was proud of himself. "-the tilt of her mattress and the warmth of another body against her back. At first she only licks her lips and and watches the slow somersaulting of dust motes in the-"

"Alexander, why are you ignoring me? Am I _annoying_ you?" Aaron taunted.

Now Alex was just pissed. He didn't want to hurt Aaron, no, but _someone_. It may very well be the next person who walks in the door. He slammed his book shut, making Aaron jump, at the same time John walked in the door.

"Hey, is this Aa-" Alex's book connected with John's face before he could finish his sentence, falling to the ground while clutching the side of his face. His cheek was red and would probably bruise. Three more things happened at the same time: Alex started sobbing, Aaron was sitting at his desk with his hands together in front of him - probably praying, and John was looking at both of them confusedly from the floor. "What's wrong?" He asked, panicked.

Aaron looked up. "Who are you?" He asked.

"John Laurens?" The pitch of his voice became higher at the end of his name, phrasing it like a question.

"Ah. You're Alex's friend." Aaron jabbed a thumb at Alex, who was still sobbing. "Alex!" Aaron said sternly. Alex stopped crying and looked at John, which caused him to start crying again. Aaron sighed. "Why are you crying?"

"B-because I hurt John a-and I'm afraid he doesn't like m-me anymore." Alex stuttered, his bottom lip quivering as John stared at him.

John laughed, then laughed harder, then laughed so hard he had to lay down on the floor, his chest bouncing with every laugh. Alex looked at him until he sat up, Aaron going back to his praying. John, seeing Alex, explained. "I was laughing because - fuck, man, I just met you! Throwing a book in my face won't make me _hate_ you, Alex. From what I saw before I was attacked, you were angry at something and needed a release of some sort. Unfortunately that was me, but it wasn't intentional."

Alex smiled and looked at Aaron who _\- still_ \- was praying. Finally, he looked up and saw the two boys. John was smiling and Alex's mouth was quirked up at the corner, and Aaron just groaned and leaned back in his chair. "Lord help me if I have to deal with _both_ of you."

"Actually," John said, "I was coming in here for my session with you. It was supposed to begin at 2:00, but you two were still in here."

Aaron glanced at the clock. _Shit_ , it was 2:15 now. His session with Alex had gone late, which meant that all the other sessions would be late, and-

"Hey." Alex said, pulling Aaron away from his thoughts. "You're thinking too much. Stop that." He waggled a finger at Aaron and he sighed. "There won't be anything to do with John anyways."

"Why's that?" Aaron asked, directing the question at John.

"I'm gay. My father sent me here for correction therapy." John said, a tint of anger painting his voice. However, Alex could tell that he was holding something back from the way he was fidgeting.

Oblivious as always, Aaron opened his mouth in an O shape before closing it. "Then there really isn't much to do, is there? We could always work on your relationship with your father-"

"I'd rather not talk about him." John interrupted.

"We'll see." Aaron said tiredly. "Alex, shoo. I'll see you later, okay? Here, take your book." He handed Alex the book, Alex smiling at John before he left. John shut the door and sat in the chair where Alex was. Aaron pulled out a folder with John's name on it and sighed. "Let's begin, shall we?"

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to post this because i am proud of it and i actually like it a lot, but i'm probably not going to update it for a while until i finish my other two fics: priceless and it's not blood it's a metaphor for love (which you, lovely reader, should totally check out if you have not (shameless promo #sorrynotsorry)).  
> this will be updated just not immediately!!! sorry


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